Page 3 of The Dare

“Oh no, Suze… You know I’m on my way to patching things up with Neil,” she says with a dreamy look.

Neil is my dad.

When he was there that is.

All three of us go quiet, like a spell might be broken, jinxed if we even talk about the possibility of my mom and dad getting back together.

It’s Suzanna’s turn to blush as she realizes her comment was in bad taste.

No skin off my nose. Dad’s been like a stranger my whole life, so if mom wants to rekindle things between them now, go for it.

Just don’t try to include me.

I’d rather not think about the man personally.

Suze opens her mouth to speak, to apologize but mom changes the subject.

Like a fresh breeze, she’s usually always able to shift the mood of any situation just by being herself.

“So!” Mom exclaims loudly, banishing any question on her own romantic plans, “What are you girls doing to pass the time?”

I stifle a groan, knowing that mom just loves games on a train or anywhere else as much as my best friend does.

“Truth or dare,” Suzanna says triumphantly, making my mom laugh and clap her hands in front of herself, her eyes shining with mischief as she looks directly at me for some reason.

“Great! Whose turn is it?” she asks, and Suzanna’s shifting gaze completes the circuit of all eyes on Natasha.

I’m ‘it’.

Fine. I’ve got twelve more hours of this, may as well try to have some fun at my own expense.

“Truth,” I murmur, looking out the window, not even trying to hide my disdain for this game especially.

Too many bad memories for me, but none of them involve my mom or Suzanna.

Just college stuff.

The landscape outside hasn’t changed anyway, so it's barely worth a glance.

It’s either green squares of farmland waiting for the crop, or yellow squares of the flowering crop. Canola or corn, I think.

Not very panoramic after three hundred miles…

Suzanna hums with interest as if I’ve surprised her with my choice from the two.

My mom gasps for effect as both of them seem suddenly in on something, even whispering and giggling to each other to make it more suspenseful.

I click my tongue in disapproval, knowing my conscience is clear.

There’s no way either of them could ask me a question I wouldn’t want to answer.

I don’t think there is any way.

“Did yougo all the wayin college? And how many times?” Suzanna asks, making my heart stop.

Mom gasps for real this time and shoots Suzanna a serious look.

I feel a stab of hurt in my chest, the place where my heart just shriveled up and died.